


Come Back

by HouDalWas



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:04:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5936196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouDalWas/pseuds/HouDalWas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashlyn's soccer career is over. Then she meets Ali Krieger, and everything she thinks she knows about her own life is turned around. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Ashlyn Meets Ali

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding the timeline - everything in Ali's life up to this point reflects real life. Any changes in Ashlyn's will be made clear.

Ashlyn hated weddings.

In theory, she should have loved them. Dressing up, dancing, drinking, hooking up with bridesmaids – these were her favorite things. But the older she got and the more weddings she attended, the more she hated them because it just reminded her of what she didn’t have, how everyone else was moving on with their lives and she was stuck in the same place she’d been in for the last year and a half.

Ashlyn hated weddings, but she loved her friends, so she finished packing and hopped into her Jeep for the drive down to Chapel Hill for the wedding of her college teammate Heather O’Reilly.

Well, first the bachelorette party in Raleigh, she amended, and then the wedding. Now, bachelorette parties, those were her kind of thing.

Once she got out of DC (which was a very long ‘once’), the Saturday traffic on I-95 and I-85 wasn’t bad, and she passed the trip singing along with the radio, stopping once for gas and lunch. The mid-afternoon North Carolina sun shone brightly when she pulled up in front of The Umstead in Cary. Ashlyn whistled to herself. It was a nice place, as well it ought to be for as much as she was paying for the room, she thought wryly. At least she was splitting it. HAO said she had friends who wouldn’t mind bunking up, and Ashlyn had taken her up on it without a second thought. Her income wasn’t exactly cushy.

“Ashlyn Harris, with the O’Reilly party,” she told the handsome desk clerk, smiling at his Southern drawl. It brought back memories of her college years, which were bittersweet these days but still the best time of her life.

In the elevator she texted HAO of her arrival. Not knowing who made up the bridal party or which other mutual friends made the trip, Ashlyn wasn’t sure what to expect besides a good time.

“308, 310, 312 … 314,” she muttered to herself, opening the door.

Her first impression was of brightness, for the curtains had been thrown open to show a stunning view of a lake, and the sun streamed in. Her second, once she blinked enough for her eyes to adjust, was of a nice room, modern and classy.

Her third impression was that she wasn’t alone.

A girl was curled up on the bed nearest the balcony. She had long, dark hair, but with her back to Ashlyn, that was all there was to see. Walking as softly as possible, Ashlyn set her bag down on the free bed and headed to use the bathroom.

After washing her hands, Ashlyn opened the door and rounded the corner to come face to face with a stranger.

“Shit,” she blurted out.

The stranger’s hand flew to her mouth while she took a few steps back. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry! You, uh, you must be Ashlyn.” She held out her hand. “I’m Ali Kr–”

“Krieger,” Ashlyn finished for her.

Like anyone else who followed American women’s soccer, Ashlyn knew all about Ali Krieger. She was the one who’d spurned the uncertain world of women’s professional soccer in the US for the more reliable (and better paying and more prestigious) world of the Frauen Bundesliga, where she’d mastered the language and become the best right back in the world, and still managed to secure a starting spot on her national team from around the globe.

Ali smiled, crinkling her nose. She hadn’t let go of Ashlyn’s hand. “Uh-oh. Heather didn’t tell me I’m rooming with a fangirl. Should I autograph something now, or wait until I know your last name, too?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Ashlyn ducked her head, grinning. “Admittedly a fan, but mostly just surprise. I didn’t know who I was sharing with. And sorry to wake you, by the way.”

On cue, Ali yawned. “It’s no problem. I need to be up, anyway. You’d think after four years of flying back and forth from Germany I’d have conquered the jet lag.”

“It sucks,” replied Ashlyn, remembering her own days of international travel with the youth team, before it was all taken away from her.

“Oh well, I’ll live … but I should probably go take a shower.”

It was at that point that Ashlyn realized they were still holding hands. Dropping Ali’s, she grabbed her phone and room key and headed for the door. “I’m gonna go find Heather.” Pausing at the door, she turned and flashed a grin at Ali. “It’s Harris, by the way.”

Ali returned the grin. “Nice to meet you, Ashlyn Harris.”

“Nice to meet you, Ali Krieger.”

~

When Ashlyn returned to the room after receiving an enthusiastic welcome from HAO, Ali was still in the shower, so she set up the ironing board and pressed her shirt. Still unable to shower, she stretched out on her bed and watched an episode of Friends she’d seen a dozen times. At that point, shower still running, she began to get annoyed. Was Germany that bad Ali needed all night to wash it off her?

Ashlyn was about two minutes away from deciding to forgo a shower entirely when Ali finally stepped out, a fluffy robe around her body and equally fluffy towel around her hair.

“Oh, I feel so much better!” she exclaimed, stretching.

“Yeah, I bet that long, hot shower felt great,” said Ashlyn, brushing past her.

Ali either didn’t pick up on her sarcasm or chose to ignore it. “It really did. Hey, how long do you think you’re going to be? Just wondering if I should grab my hair dryer.”

Ashlyn rolled her eyes without turning around. “Not long.”

She let the hot spray wash off her annoyance. Ashlyn had spent enough years in soccer to know that every team had at least one diva. Looked like she’d found the National Team’s.

True to her word, she showered quickly, and the girls switched places, Ali blow drying her hair and dressing in the bathroom while Ashlyn did her makeup and dressed in front of the TV. Ali was quicker this time, emerging just as Ashlyn put the finishing touches on her bow tie.

“Hmm, don’t you clean up nice.”

Ashlyn turned, her hands falling from her tie. Ali had somehow poured herself into tight black jeans, and Ashlyn was suddenly reminded of her promise to HAO.

She cleared her throat. “Not bad yourself.”

Ali smiled, preening and posing for a moment before closing the distance between them and surprising Ashlyn by taking her tie and adjusting it. “Crooked,” she said softly. “I love bow ties, by the way.”

Somehow the overly long shower no longer bothered Ashlyn.

~

“Oh my God, you guys are kidding me, right?”

HAO spun around, hands in the air at the ludicrousness of the lime-green limousine behind her. Laughing with girlish excitement, they piled in, passing around champagne and chatting at top volume for the fifteen-minute trip into Raleigh.

“So do you know what Dave is doing tonight?” asked Lily, a bridesmaid and cousin of HAO’s.

“NOT going to a strip club, I hope,” replied the bride-to-be, laughing. “Or you may not need to come back next weekend!”

“If you want me to check all of them out and make sure he’s not there, I can do that for you,” Ashlyn joked.

HAO threw a balled-up napkin at her. “Yeah, for sure, you’d do that just for me. Such a good pal, Ash.”

“Anything for my friends.”

Amidst another round of laughter, Lily caught Ashlyn’s eye and smiled. Ashlyn returned the grin, knowing the night could turn interesting.

They piled out at a Mexican restaurant called Jibarra, where chips, salsa, and strong margaritas further fueled their good spirits. Watching HAO and Ali laugh and banter with everyone else, Ashlyn couldn’t help but recall watching the World Cup final only a few months earlier, seeing the two friends trudge off the field wearing matching faces of devastation. She knew all too well how long soccer scars could linger, but it pleased her to see they didn’t appear, on the surface, to be dwelling.

“That looks, um, boring?” Ashlyn said, nudging Ali next to her and nodding at her plate of tilapia.

Ali shrugged. “It’s actually really good, even without the sauce. I’m still in season, so I can’t let myself go too much while I’m here.” She laughed. “But you better believe I’m eating at my favorite places in DC this week, even if I have to do double workouts to make up for it.”

“DC?”

“Yeah. It’s where my dad lives. I’m staying with him this week.”

“No kidding? I live in DC.”

“Oh?’ Ali gave her an arch look. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Definitely an interesting night.

It was a slightly drunker crowd that piled back into the limo, tripping over each other. Lily fell into Ashlyn’s lap, causing the blonde to catch her around the waist.

“Ooops, sorry!” she exclaimed as she slid an arm around Ashlyn’s shoulders.

“That’s okay.”

Seated across the limo, HAO raised an eyebrow, and Ashlyn shrugged. It wasn’t her fault Lily landed on her. Next to HAO, Ali Krieger winked at Ashlyn with a smile.

“Um, here you go,” said Ashlyn as she eased Lily into her own seat before returning Ali’s smile.

~

“No way! NO WAY!” HAO squealed.

Ashlyn, who hadn’t had a hand in planning the night, had to laugh. Coglin’s, Raleigh’s best (and possibly only) 80s and 90s bar, had been the sight of many a girls’ night out when they made the trek from Chapel Hill in college. In fact, during her junior year, Ashlyn had been quite politely asked to leave and had quietly cooperated. Or something like that.

Hopefully that bartender had moved on in the intervening years.

Lily spoke to the doorman, who consulted his list, and soon a manager was leading them past the line and through the pulsing crowd to a VIP booth. Reclining on brightly colored leather couches, they could admire the nostalgic memorabilia that peppered the walls or enjoy the crowd dancing raucously to MC Hammer and Soft Cell.

But reclining wasn’t what they had in mind. They’d barely ordered their drinks before HAO started dragging everyone to the dance floor. Ashlyn did the Dip with Lily, attempted the Tootsee Roll next to a stranger, joined the entire party in the Electric Slide, and tried to vogue with HAO. Only to replenish her drink did she step away.

“Jack and Coke!” she shouted at the bartender over the sounds of Duran Duran.

“I knew you’d be a whiskey girl,” a voice said in her ear.

Ashlyn turned to see a grinning Ali Krieger, her face flushed. It could have been the exertion of dancing, but the girl was a professional athlete, so that left Ashlyn with one guess.

“Yeah? And what are you drinking? Appletinis?”

Ali made a face, and on cue, the (very cute) bartender slid a drink toward her. “Vodka and tonic?”

“That’s disgusting,” Ashlyn commented. “I hope you’re not expecting me to carry you back to our room tonight.”

“Oh, if I go back to our room with you tonight, I’ll know exactly what I’m doing.” And with that, Ali neatly picked up Ashlyn’s drink, took a sip, handed it back with a wink, and walked off.

It wasn’t often Ashlyn was the one doing the chasing, but damned if she would be left behind by a brunette, nose-crinkling vixen.

“A lot of talk for someone who’s probably on her second drink.”

Ali glanced over her shoulder as she took the steps to their booth. “Second? That’s cute. You know I live in Germany, right? And went to Penn State? I mean, I’m not saying anything, but I’m pretty sure I could drink all you Tarheels under the table.”

“Maybe, with all the consoling yourself you had to do every time you didn’t win a national championship.” Ali’s eyes widened, but before she could reply, Ashlyn leaned forward, noticing as she did how long Ali’s eyelashes were. “Does a Florida girl need to show you how it’s done?”

“You’re funny, Florida.”

“You’re on, Germany.”

~

Ashlyn blamed alcohol and Montell Jordan for her current predicament – Lily grinding against her, HAO’s eyes shooting daggers, and Ali Krieger not bothering to hide her laughter, when she happened to look up from her crowd of admirers, that is.

Ashlyn didn’t have any particular urge to dance with Lily – okay, maybe she did enjoy messing with HAO – but seeing as the person she wanted to dance with apparently didn’t care to extract herself from the group of men vying for her attention, Lily would do for the time being.

Still, Ashlyn steered them toward Ali as best she could, who waved and smiled but made no attempt to move closer. Mentally shrugging, Ashlyn pulled Lily’s hips close, winking at HAO and receiving a look of warning in return.

“Another one?” Lily suggested as one song segued into another, looping her arms around Ashlyn’s neck.

Another song, another time, another place, another night … “Nah, I need a break.”

Lily didn’t seem too put off, easily moving to dance with the other girls, and Ashlyn headed back to the VIP booth alone, taking the opportunity to down some water.

“Quitting already, Florida?”

Ali perched on the arm of the deep leather couch, smirking down at Ashlyn. The height difference made her feel off-balance.

“You wish, Germany. Just hydrating.” Ashlyn twisted, resting her arm on the back of the couch behind Ali. They weren’t touching, but the brunette made a point of noticing. “So, are you ever going to dance with me, or are you too busy with your groupies?”

“Ha.” Ali considered Ashlyn for a moment, and again the blonde felt unbalanced. “Sure, I’ll dance with you. Impress me, and I’ll be all yours at the wedding.”

The wedding? Ashlyn raised her eyebrows, but before she could respond –

“BUDDY!”

HAO jumped into the booth, arms extended for Ali. “THEY’RE PLAYING OUR SONG!”

Ali never looked back, holding hands with HAO on the dance floor as they sang Spice Girls lyrics at the top of their lungs.

Ashlyn grinned, tilted back the remnants of her water, and went to join.

~

“This was worth every penny,” Ali murmured.

Ashlyn was inclined to agree, no matter how many extra shifts she would have to pick up to cover the weekend.

Ali released a long, low sigh of contentment that was almost erotic in nature, bringing memories of the previous night into Ashlyn’s mind – a very tipsy Ali who seemed to find every reason to touch Ashlyn in the limo, Lily side-eyeing both of them, Ashlyn and Ali still arguing about who was drunkest as they leaned on each other and stumbled back to their room, an incredibly drunk HAO somehow managing to shout a warning for Ashlyn to behave, Ali only managing to unzip her jeans before she promptly fell asleep in them …

Seeking a distraction, Ashlyn reached for her mimosa and took a long sip. The drink, along with the massage and face masks and white robes and the mani/pedi currently in progress, were the perfect answer to the hangover she wouldn’t admit to having.

“So … when are you going to DC?” she asked in lieu of any better conversation starters.

Ali, wearing mascara even though they’d just gotten facials, turned her head. She, Ashlyn grumpily noticed, didn’t seem any worse for the wear after their night out. “I’m getting a rental car tomorrow and driving up, so I’ll just hang out with HAO today.”

“You can ride with me, save some money,” Ashlyn heard herself saying. “If you want.”

“Really?”

“I mean, yeah. I’m driving anyway. Might as well … but it’s just an offer, don’t feel like you have to if you’d rather –”

“Ashlyn.” Ali smiled. “That’s really nice. If you can stand four hours in a car with me, I’d love to.”

“Hmm. Four hours might be pushing it, but luckily I drive fast.”

Ali had to be back by Friday morning, which meant Ashlyn needed to switch her Thursday night shift and find someone to cover Friday, but Eli was generally easy-going about that so she didn’t figure it would be a problem.

And that was that. They said their goodbyes to HAO, packed their bags, and hit the road. Ashlyn had Ali cracking up at her rap skills before they left the Research Triangle, setting the tone for the entire trip. Over the next three hours, they discovered just how much they had in common (divorced parents, addiction in family members, a fondness for cupcakes), swapped stories of international adventures, and realized how many times they’d nearly crossed paths in the past. The soccer discussion ended there; Ali didn’t ask about the end of her career, and Ashlyn didn’t volunteer the information. Some scars were still raw.

Ali fell asleep after Richmond, and Ashlyn spent the last hour trying to deny that Ali was adorable, that her flirting had merely been in fun, that Ashlyn was going to spend all week looking forward to another drive together.

Despite that, when they pulled up to a two-story colonial in Manassas, Ashlyn was more than willing to swap numbers, plan to meet up that week, and agree that the weekend had been a blast.

All of which was thrown out the window when a dark-haired man appeared in the doorway and Ali squealed, dropping her bags on the front lawn to launch herself into his arms.

Ashlyn shrugged as the Jeep pulled away from the curb. You win some, you lose some.


	2. In Which Ashlyn Keeps her Promise

“You look tired.”

Ashlyn opened her mouth to retort.

“I mean, you look good. But tired.”

And closed it again.

“Oh, don’t even act like you don’t know. You know what I think?”

“What do you think?”

Ali turned in her seat to face Ashlyn. “I think you know exactly how you look and exactly what you do to people.”

Ashlyn glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “And wha–”

“Eyes on the road, please. You’re carrying precious cargo.”

Ashlyn obediently faced forward as the Jeep flew down I-95, biting down on a laugh at Ali’s prim manner. “What is it that I do?”

Ali tossed her head. “Ask me again when you know me better.”

Sass turned up to eleven on this one, Ashlyn mused, unable to stop an amused smile.

Sassy and chatty. Ashlyn learned that Ali could be a talker, as the latter only stopped speaking when she asked Ashlyn a question. Germany, Ali’s time on the National Team, why Ashlyn was so tired (a very long work week, for the record), their favorite DC spots, college shenanigans – it seemed nothing was off topic.

Except the World Cup. Every time Ashlyn came close, Ali swerved in a different direction, but it wasn’t like Ashlyn didn’t understand, in her own way.

Ali hit her stride around the North Carolina state line when the conversation strayed to HAO’s wedding. The event was forty-eight hours away, yet she already knew seemingly every last detail and possessed more than enough excitement for the both of them.

“I’m sorry, I’m probably boring you to death,” Ali apologized. “I just really love weddings.”

“No, no, you’re -” Endearing? Adorable? Fascinating? “Fine.”

“I think I’d be a wedding planner if I didn’t play football,” Ali mused. “Helping people with the happiest day of their lives? I can’t think of anything better. Except football, of course.” It took less than a second for her eyes to widen. “Oh shit, Ash, I’m sorry, I know you –”

“No, you’re fine,” Ashlyn repeated mechanically.

She smiled at Ali to reinforce her words, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest. Nothing better, except soccer. Of course. Definitely not working at a skate shop or apprenticing with a tattoo artist.

“Three ACL tears,” she blurted out, and then she found herself pouring out the entire story.

Her rise through the youth national teams, begging Anson for a scholarship only to tear her ACL in her first practice at UNC. The second tear almost immediately upon recovering from the first. Finally making it to a senior camp after graduating (one that Ali, back in Germany after rehabbing on loan in DC from a broken foot, hadn’t attended). Spending her rookie year as Hope Solo’s backup in St. Louis, where the Athletica ultimately folded. Signing with the Washington Freedom, and at last getting her shot when Erin McLeod suffered an injury. And then, in her first match, going up for a save and colliding with a forward, landing wrong. Her third ACL tear.

And that was that.

Ashlyn rarely discussed her final injury, but it had been cathartic to pour it out to Ali, not bothering to hide her anger and bitterness as the pine trees flew by. She waited for the platitudes and pity that inevitably followed.

Which is why she was surprised when all Ali said, squeezing her knee, was, “You are amazing.”

The next few minutes passed in silence until eventually Ashlyn cracked a joke about a slow car they flew past, and small talk began anew.

“So, you didn’t want to bring your boyfriend?” Ashlyn asked (casually, she thought) when the topic of the wedding returned.

“Maybe if I had one.”

“You don’t? I thought, when I dropped you off on Sunday … you seemed really excited to see that guy.”

Ali furrowed her brow. “A guy? When you … oh my God, Kyle? Ew, that’s my brother, you big doofus!”

Her brother? Her brother.

“I don’t know what you get up to down in Florida, but in Virginia, we don’t date our brothers,” Ali continued with a teasing smile.

“Yeah? Well, in Florida, we haven’t called anyone a ‘doofus’ since about the 1950s,” Ashlyn retorted, grinning. “So not even a German boyfriend?”

“Not right now. You?”

“Nope.” In the spirit of full disclosure, Ashlyn added, “But I haven’t had one of those since college. And no girlfriend at the moment, either.”

Ali had played soccer her entire life. No chance she’d never had gay teammates. And even if she hadn’t been flirting with Ashlyn last weekend, she’d certainly been amused by Lily’s advances. So Ashlyn was pretty sure Ali would have no problem that Ashlyn liked girls, too. Still, there was always that moment as she held her breath …

Ali shrugged, examining one of her red fingernails. “Me neither.”

~

It was the whispering that woke her. Girls trying to be quiet and sneaky were always the loudest, and Ashlyn had had plenty of practice sneaking out.

“Where are you going?” she mumbled without opening her eyes.

Three successive giggles.

“Just running out. We’ll be right back. Sorry, we tried not to wake you.” HAO.

“But since you’re awake, you should –”

“Ali, I said not –”

“Well, she’s awake, Heather. Honestly, you’re being ridiculous, it doesn’t hurt –”

“She doesn’t want –”

“How do you –”

“Could you both please shut up?” Ashlyn said without rancor. She pushed herself up on one elbow on HAO’s couch, blinking at the three figures in front of her. She nodded her head at HAO’s sister-in-law. “What was I supposed to sleep through?”

“Heather wants to play one last game of soccer as an O’Reilly and these two have been arguing all morning about asking you.”

Oh. Ashlyn hadn’t touched a soccer ball since that fateful game, and HAO knew it.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” HAO said quickly.

Ali glared at her teammate. “Of course you don’t _have_ to, but you should at least get the choice.” She knelt next to Ashlyn, tossing her head. “But come on, Ashlyn, it’ll be fun. I’ll even go easy on you.”

Maybe it was that she could never resist a challenge, or maybe it was Ali’s cute smile, or maybe it was that Ashlyn had always prided herself on being authentic and she knew she had dwelled in self-pity too long.

No matter what, within half an hour she found herself clutching a Starbucks cup and staring across a park on a cool fall morning. She’d forgotten how beautiful Carolina autumns could be when the leaves were in the middle of changing and one could step outside into an explosion of color. DC was pretty, too, but North Carolina had something special, some extra sort of flavor. And Chapel Hill …

“Home,” she said softly.

“What?”

She hadn’t realized when Ali sat next to her on the bench. “This was home,” she repeated. “It was … well, it’s a long story, but I was ready to leave Florida, and this place became everything to me.” Her happiest memories were here, her best friends connected to the campus.

“It’s beautiful,” Ali commented, looking around. “Even if the soccer is sub-par.”

She was gone before Ashlyn could grab her, and once she was off, it was clear Ashlyn would never catch her. Fast and in her prime, she far outpaced the former goalkeeper who’d always hated running, even though Ashlyn kept her fitness at peak levels since her injury. Her trainer said her gym obsession was a control issue; Ashlyn retorted that she paid good money.

However, when HAO caught wind of what Ali had said, it was game over for the former Penn State midfielder. The two cornered her against a tree, and Ashlyn swooped in, throwing Ali over her shoulder.

“Should we show her what happens in Tarheel country?” Ashlyn asked, nodding at the nearby pond.

Ignoring Ali’s demands and threats, HAO pretended to consider it before shaking her head. “Nah, her hair looks too good to mess it up.” She proceeded to slap Ali on the ass so hard she winced and waved her hand in pain, and Ashlyn allowed the brunette to escape.

“You two,” Ali warned through her giggles, “were almost dead meat. Dead. Meat.”

HAO threw an arm over her shoulders and dragged the defender with her. “Save the trash talk for the field, Kriegs.”

With a group of eight, including another former teammate of Ashlyn’s, they split into teams of four. All agreed the National Teamers should captain separate sides, and Ashlyn was gratified when she was Ali’s first choice.

“Ash? Aaash?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at the ball for a good minute.”

“Oh.” A sphere, less than nine inches in diameter and weighing not quite a pound. Simple. Innocuous. Heart-breaking.

“You good, buddy?”

“I’m good.”

HAO slapped her on the back before jogging to join her team. With a deep breath, Ashlyn forced herself to reach down and pick up a ball she hadn’t touched since a torn ligament crushed her dreams.

~

They won.

Even though Ashlyn had never been much of a field player, kicking the ball brought back a tidal wave of feelings, as if a spring long and tightly coiled was released. Old emotions came rushing back. And, somewhat surprisingly, old instincts.

HAO and Ali dominated, of course, weaving around their friends like they were standing still and proving more than willing to challenge each other as if the World Cup was on the line. But deep inside Ashlyn was pleased with herself. She still knew how to touch a ball, how to put it exactly where she wanted it, how to take in an entire pitch with one glance, and even, after a moment’s hesitation, to slide tackle HAO and prevent her from scoring.

“EEEEKKKK!!!!!!”

Ali launched herself at Ashlyn after nailing the winning goal (first to five). Surprised, Ashlyn barely restrained herself from grasping Ali’s ass, although the muscled thighs her hands supported as Ali’s legs wrapped around her waist were tantalizing enough.

“PENN STATE, BABY!” Ali yelled. “WE ARE!”

“Tarheels, Kriegs, we’re Tarheels,” said HAO, rolling her eyes. “No one here is going to finish that chant for you.”

“Don’t be pissy ‘cuz you lost,” Ali retorted, sliding out of Ashlyn’s hands and high-fiving their teammates.

“Me, pissy? I’m not pissy. I may never be pissy again. You wanna know why? Because I’m getting mar-ried!” HAO sang, breaking out into a dance that had all the girls rolling.

“Dave’s not marrying your for your moves, that’s for sure,” Ali teased. “Well, maybe not _these_ moves.”

And then for some reason she turned to Ashlyn and winked.

~

Ashlyn thought Dave Werry was a fantastic guy, but she’d never found him particularly attractive. At least not until she saw his face when he married Heather O’Reilly.

“Were you crying, buddy? Hey, no crying at my wedding, okay?”

Ashlyn hugged her tightly. “Who, me? Never.”

She’d surprised herself with the tears. Emotions came freely to Ashlyn and she was never one to hide it, but weddings did not typically arouse such feelings in her. Yet the joy and astonishment on Dave’s face twisted something inside her, a sense of what she refused to admit was longing.

“Absolutely gorgeous, Heather. You and the wedding, both. And Dave! Who knew you could clean up so nice?”

“Hey, hey, that’s my husband you’re hugging,” HAO warned. “Easy on the squeezin’.”

Ashlyn laughed, purposefully pulling Dave into another hug before moving along, letting other guests have a chance to congratulate the beaming couple. They embodied the idea of the sum being more than the parts, she mused, as she let Tobin Heath, UNC teammate and close friend, pull her to a table.

It was clearly the soccer table; some players she knew, some she didn’t. All made her feel welcome, though, and it provided her with a good vantage point to let her gaze rest on the bridesmaids’ table.

Ali was stunning in the simple, short, black and Carolina blue (for which Ashlyn planned to give her much shit) dress. Light makeup, hair long and curled, she was the only thing that pulled Ashlyn’s eyes away from the happy newlyweds.

Not long after the wait staff cleared their dinner plates, Rachel Buehler looked over Ashlyn’s shoulder and let loose a wolf whistle. Before Ashlyn could turn, a perfectly manicured hand rested on the back of her chair, and she looked up into Ali’s brown eyes.

“Looking hot, Kriegy,” said Abby Wambach.

“Germany does you good,” Heather Mitts chimed in. “But the question is, are you doing it good?”

Tobin groaned, and Lauren Cheney cuffed Mittsy’s shoulder lightly before standing to give Ali a tight hug. “Ignore her, Ali. How are you, girl? We miss you.”

“I miss you, too! I’m so glad I got to come home for this.”

She made her way around the table, hugging all her teammates. It wasn’t until she reached Shannon Boxx that anyone thought about Ashlyn.

“Ali, have you met Ashlyn Harris?” Boxxy asked.

Ali eyed Ashlyn with a coy smile. “Oh yeah, we’re old pals.”

“Really?” Christie Rampone asked. “Were you on a youth team together?”

“No, but we go way back,” Ashlyn joked. “All the way to last week.”

Taking pity on their puzzled friends, the two explained HAO’s bachelorette party the previous week and the roommate situation. When Ali left out their road trips to and from DC, Ashlyn didn’t mention it, either.

“I have to go, they’re starting the dancing, but I’ll come back,” Ali said too soon, ruffling Rylie Rampone’s hair as she left.

Ashlyn caught Ali’s wrist. “Don’t forget, you’re supposed to be all mine,” she said in a low voice she hoped didn’t carry.

Ali raised her eyebrows. “Oh really? Hmm, I don’t remember you impressing me.” With a wink, she walked away.

Knowing their interaction had been watched, Ashlyn excused herself to get a drink. Waiting at the bar for her beer, it was soon apparent she hadn’t escaped far enough.

“Ash, you dog!” a voice exclaimed.

She jumped. “A little louder, Abby, I don’t think they heard you in the bathroom. What are you talking about?”

“You banged Kriegs, didn’t you? You know, Pinoe and I always thought she was a switch hitter, but that girl holds her cards so close, I was never completely sure.”

Ashlyn rolled her eyes. “I didn’t sleep with Ali Krieger.”

Abby nudged her. “Okay, but you want to, huh?”

“Abby. I barely know her. Yeah, she’s hot, but she’s gonna go back to Germany and I’m gonna go back to DC, and no one’s hooking up with anyone.”

Abby took a long look toward the wedding party before shrugging. “Whatever you say, Ash, but you should know Sarah said Ali looked at you like a tree she wanted to spend all day climbing.”

~

As it turned out, Ali wasn’t all Ashlyn’s, but she didn’t mind. Between her friends and their dates, not to mention both bride and groom, Ashlyn’s dance card was full. Lily made sure she was available anytime Ashlyn tried to take a breather, and Ashlyn was uncomfortably aware she needed to deal with that situation.

As for Ali, well, Ashlyn was happy to get a few dances in. She couldn’t blame everyone else for wanting a part of the expatriate. But one more than one occasion, she caught Ali’s eye across the dance floor, and within a few minutes the brunette would sidle up to her, and Ashlyn got her first taste of having Ali Krieger in her arms.

If the sample was anything to go by, she wouldn’t have minded getting addicted.

~

“Heather doesn’t have to know, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I’m not asking for anything but tonight.”

Ashlyn swallowed. If she did this, what would she feel like in the morning? Was an hour of pleasure worth it? Was it enough?

“Sorry, but I can’t,” she finally said, trying to extract herself from the cute, willing, and intoxicated bridesmaid.

Lily pouted. “This could be lots of fun, you know.”

She leaned in for a kiss that Ashlyn sidestepped. It was tempting, she had to admit, but she’d grown tired of the emptiness that followed one-night stands.

“Night, Lily.”

HAO’s cousin continued to try to persuade her as Ashlyn steered her into the elevator, pressed her floor, and slipped out. Nothing more persistent than a drunken girl in a pretty dress.

“Hiiiii.”

And speaking of … Ashlyn turned, grateful Ali hadn’t seen the necking Lily had tried to initiate only minutes before. “Hey, you.”

“Have fun?”

“The most I’ve had since last weekend.” Ali laughed at that. “You going up?”

Ali glanced at the elevators, oddly sheepish. “Yeah, but, um, I don’t really like elevators. I’ll just take the stairs.”

“What floor are you on?”

“Five.”

Ashlyn raised her eyebrows, stepping in front of the brunette as she tried to head for the staircase. “Five flights of stairs in heels, and exactly how sober are you? Nope, nuh-uh, you’re coming with me. What’s so bad about elevators anyway?”

Ali glanced at the metal doors again, and although her brown eyes were glassy, Ashlyn could see true anxiety in them. “I got stuck inside one when I was a little kid, okay? I just don’t like them.”

“I get it. You can take the stairs if you want, but either way I’m coming with you.”

She looked between the two options one more time before shrugging and heading for the stairs, Ashlyn in her wake. It ended up being Ashlyn, who’d had too much to drink as well, who stumbled when they rounded the second floor, and they completed the last three flights with their arms around each other, laughing about Abby’s terrible dancing, the mad rush to catch HAO’s bouquet, and the imagination employed by Dave’s groomsmen in decorating the newlyweds’ car.

“So at first we swore Pearcie had torn her ACL, and all I could think was that Pia was going to murder us,” Ali said through her giggles as they burst onto the fifth floor. “But Chris says she just twisted her knee. Imagine explaining _that_ to the press!”

“The captain of the United States Women’s National Team will be unavailable for tonight’s match as she danced too hard,” Ashlyn said in her best announcer voice.

That set Ali off on a fresh round of giggles, and Ashlyn was sure they were annoying every single sleeping guest as they finally reached Ali’s room, where she had to empty her clutch before she could find her room key. Holding it up in triumph, the defender suddenly quieted and reached out with her free hand to brush something invisible off Ashlyn’s shoulder.

“I really like this look on you,” she murmured, all her exuberance gone.

“What look is that?” Ashlyn asked, moving closer.

“Dressy without wearing, you know, a dress. I bet you can really pull off a suit.”

“Maybe you’ll have to find out someday.”

“Maybe I will.”

The shoulder finally passing Ali’s inspection, she looked up to meet Ashlyn’s eyes, and had Ali’s gaze dropped to Ashlyn’s lips at any point in time, the former goalkeeper would have been a goner. As it was, she leaned forward, resting one hand against the wall next to Ali’s head.

“I’m really glad I got to meet you,” Ashlyn told her in a low voice.

“I know.” This cracked both of them up again, and Ali dragged one hand down her face. “I mean, I’m glad, too. Really glad.”

“And I really want to kiss you right now.” Ashlyn hadn’t forgotten her promise to HAO, but she was pretty sure there were ways around it.

“I know.”

Ashlyn cocked her head with a crooked grin. “How’d you get to know so much?”

“When you get to be my age, you’ll understand.” Ali flashed a smile, but all joking was brushed aside. “I like you a lot, Ash. But if you kiss me right now, I’m going to kiss you back.”

“Well, damn. That changes everything.”

Ali lifted a finger to Ashlyn’s lips to shush her. The brief contact had Ashlyn’s heart racing. “And then maybe you come in, or maybe you don’t. But either way, I go back to Germany tomorrow. And I’m not – you couldn’t be just a one night stand for me, Ash. I’m going to be sad enough on that plane. I’m sorry, I didn’t know I would like you this much. It’s your fault, you know. You and that damn dimple.”

She was smiling now, and not a soul in the world could resist that smile (in Ashlyn’s opinion). Disappointment flared inside Ashlyn, but common sense made her step back. A friendship could develop from across the world, but a relationship was another matter entirely.

“I’ll try to keep my dimple to myself in the future,” she teased.

Ali poked the offending cheek. “Don’t you dare.”

“So, a hug for my friend?” Ashlyn opened her arms.

“For you, always.”

They embraced, and Ashlyn ignored the way Ali was just short enough that they fit together perfectly, or the muscles underneath her hands, or the scent of Ali’s shampoo, or how she was sure she felt Ali’s heart beating against her own. And she definitely ignored the feeling of Ali’s lips against her neck.

“Good night, Ash.”

“Good night, Al.”

~

Ashlyn waved at Ali one last time before pulling away from the curb at Raleigh Durham International Airport. They planned to keep in touch, with Ali promising to text as soon as she arrived in Frankfurt no matter the time, and made tentative plans to meet at Christmas. Ashlyn knew in her heart that Ali was right about the distance, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Just as she was settling in for her drive back to DC, her phone rang. Perfect timing.

“Hey girl, hey!” she sang. “How’s my very best friend in the world?”

“Sad I missed what seemed like the party of the year, judging by the pictures on Facebook,” Whitney Engen replied cheerfully. “How was the wedding?”

“It was a blast, Whit. I really wish you could have been there. A lot of people asked about you. How’s Sweden?”

“Cold,” grumbled the SoCal native. “Cold and far away. But fun. The soccer is awesome, Ash.”

“I wish I could see you play.”

“Something will end up on YouTube. I’ll let you know. But, more importantly – did you keep your promise? And no lying. I can always tell when you’re lying.”

“I totally behaved.”

Whitney cheered. “Way to go, Ash!”

Ashlyn rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe Heather actually made me promise. It was one time! How was I supposed to know the chick would turn out to be batshit?”

Both girls laughed. “Yeah, she was nuts. I thought you’d never get rid of her.”

“Me too, man, me too.”

Ashlyn fell silent for a moment as she merged into the passing lane, trying to get away from a clump of slow-moving cars.

“So, want to tell me what’s wrong?” asked Whitney.

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s on your mind. So tell me. You weren’t lying, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t. I didn’t sleep with a bridesmaid, just like I promised.” She sighed. “But Whit, I think I did something worse. I think I fell for one.”


	3. In Which Ashlyn Breaks the Rules

Hair, check. Makeup, check. Clothes, check. Effortless look, check. Ashlyn would go to her grave swearing she didn’t primp for these weekly chats, but she’d be a liar.

“Heeyyyy,” Ali drawled when she came on the screen, open-mouthed smile and all.

Ashlyn grinned before noticing something that made her eyes widen.

“What happened?” both girls exclaimed in unison.

“Ladies first, and my mom gave up on me being a lady a long time ago.” Ashlyn gave her a pointed look until Ali gave in.

“Have I ever told you how fucking hard-headed Maro is?” Ali asked wryly. “Went up for a header against her, and her forehead got my nose. It’s not broken or anything, but you know how it goes. Bloody nose, black eye.”

“Oh, I thought it was some new European eyeliner trend,” Ashlyn teased. “I hope it looks worse than it feels. Don't worry, you're still cute.”

“Ashlyn.” It was meant to be a warning - Ali had laid down rules when the texts turned into phone calls turned into Skype dates, all amounting to ‘no flirting’ - but her smile belied her words. “So, your turn.”

Ashlyn cleared her throat, lightly rubbing the bandage across her chin. “Just a scrape.”

“While shaving?”

Ashlyn pulled a face. “For your information, I was diving on the ground, and there was a patch of dirt where the grass should have been.”

“Oh, that makes complete sense.”

“Okay, smartass.” Ashlyn fidgeted with her watch. She had no idea why she was so hesitant to tell anyone. “So I’ve picked up a new, kinda like, hobby or whatever.”

She paused, and Ali simply waited quietly. She had showered recently, for her hair still looked damp, and Ashlyn was amused to note she’d already reapplied her mascara. Ali could set all the rules she wanted, but she couldn’t stop Ashlyn from looking. Or admiring.

“So, um, I’m playing soccer again. It’s just an adult rec league, but it’s something, you know?”

“Ash, that’s great!” Ali exclaimed, clapping her hands together. The feed stuttered, momentarily freezing on Ali’s wide smile, and Ashlyn swallowed. All the rules in the world couldn’t diminish the effect of that smile. “I’m so happy for you! What made you do that?”

“Well, you did, actually. When we played the day before Heather’s wedding, it was like … like something clicked into place. Like ...”

She paused, wondering if Ali could fully understand. She’d never known what it was like to have her livelihood, lifeblood, and life’s work taken from her in the span of a second. Soccer had been everything to Ashlyn. Everything. And for the year and a half she’d gone without kicking a ball, her life had been … less.

“Like you were looking for something you didn’t even know and suddenly you found it?” Ali finished. When Ashlyn expressed surprise, she smiled. “The first time I walked onto a soccer field after my DVT, I cried. Even when I knew I wasn’t going to die, I thought my soccer career was over.”

God, Ashlyn was stupid. She’d forgotten all about Ali’s pulmonary embolisms during college, which was a feat considering how it had been discussed every time Ali was mentioned during the World Cup. She knew how Ashlyn felt - except she didn’t. She got to live her dream (was currently living her dream), while Ashlyn was reduced to the soccer equivalent of table scraps.

“I’m so proud of you, Ash!” Ali continued, beaming through the grainy connection. “This is huge. Huge! We are so totally going to celebrate when I come home for Christmas.”

Ashlyn ducked her head. “Nah, it’s not a big deal. Wait, Christmas?”

“Yeah, we got our dates today, and I’ve already booked my ticket! I guess you’ll be in Florida, so I was thinking while I’m in Miami with my mom, I’ll drive up to see you for a couple of days.”

Ali in Satellite Beach? Ashlyn didn’t even want to be in Satellite Beach.

Ali sensed her hesitation. “Or you can come down to Miami. It’s fun, and Mom won’t mind if you stay with us. Waffle, too, of course. I want to meet the little guy.”

“But you’re going to be in DC, too, aren’t you?” Ashlyn deflected. “We can hook up while you’re here.”

She waggled her eyebrows, waiting for Ali to scold her for her choice of words. Instead, the brunette studied her for a moment before nodding. “Sure. So! I want to know everything about your games, but first, how’s your knee holding up?”

“It’s fine,” Ashlyn replied, picking at a broken fingernail. “Perfectly fine.”

“Good. And if it starts to hurt, you’ll get it looked at, right?” Ashlyn gave her a look, but Ali persisted. “Ashlyn?”

“Yeah, alright,” she snapped, regretting it instantly. Ali meant well. “I will, Al, I promise. But it’s never been better.” Ali had no idea how true that was.

Ali nodded, smiling. “Great. So how many clean sheets have you collected?”

~

Ashlyn smiled at the customer and closed the cash drawer, finishing the sale. A slow day, as they usually were during the DC winter, and she’d be glad when her shift ended in a few hours. She had a client lined up at the shop tonight, which excited her as she’d only done her first tattoo a month prior.

“I’m going on my break,” she called to her boss, Eli, who owned the surf/skate shop. “You want a coffee?”

“Yeah, but you got a minute first?”

Shrugging, Ashlyn walked into his office and dropped into a free chair.

“You haven’t submitted your days off for the holidays.”

“Um, I wasn’t planning on taking any. That’s what I put myself down for all the shifts everyone else doesn’t want. I need the money anyway.”

“Ash, when was the last time you were in Florida?”

“What does it matter, Eli?” she retorted. “Like I said, I need the money, so I’ll take the extra shifts. Which, you’ll notice, frees you for the holidays.”

Her old friend stared at her in contemplation until she looked away. “Well, you never did go home much in college,” he finally muttered. “Whatever you want, Ash.”

“Thank you,” she replied, making sure her sarcasm was noticed. “I’ll be back in fifteen.”

Grabbing her longboard, Ashlyn took off down the sidewalk toward one of her favorite coffee spots. She immediately regretted that decision; a biting wind threatened to push her off her board at any second. Ashlyn had long known she would never adapt to any winter harsher than that of a central Florida beach, but she needed to clear her head.

She didn’t want to go to Florida. She’d sworn she would only return to Satellite Beach as a somebody, a success story, a champion. Not like this. She’d already blown off her parents, argued with her brother, and avoided her grandma, not to mention deflecting Ali.

So why was Eli making her reconsider?

Alright, Ashlyn, she told herself. Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe it’s time to go home.

Annoyed - with Eli, herself, even Ali - she patted her pockets, searching for a coin, but no such luck. With the coffee shop in sight, she made a decision, determined to stop stressing. If her favorite barista was there, she’d stay in DC. If it was the hairy guy who kept hitting on her despite heavy hints to the contrary, flat-out refusals, and the time she got the number of a girl right in front of him, then she’d go to Florida.

Ashlyn slid to a stop, picked up her board, and opened the door.

“Aw, shit.”

~

“Guess who?”

Ali giggled. “Mom?”

“No, your favorite person.”

“Kyle?”

“Are you accusing me of having man hands? Your favorite DC resident.”

“Um, Liz?” Ali said with a teasing lilt.

Ashlyn leaned closer, whispering in her ear. “One last chance, Princess, or you’re getting coffee alone.” Ali giggled again, increasing with every word Ashlyn spoke. “Your favorite blonde, inked, overall awesome, Florida transport to DC, person.”

“Awesome? Now I’m really stumped.”

“Fine.” Ashlyn shoved her hands in her pockets and spun on her heel, marching for the door of the busy coffee shop. A pair of perfectly manicured hands sliding around her waist halted her progress.

“I flew all the way from Germany, and I’m not leaving without at least a smile from my favorite blonde, tattooed, awesome, Florida transplant to DC, rapping, goalkeeping, surfing, skateboarding, Nutella eating person named Ashlyn.”

“If I’d known it was this easy to have you begging for me …”

Ashlyn turned around to take in a smirking Ali Krieger. She looked unfairly good: tan even in the middle of winter, dark hair over one shoulder with a loose curl, gray V-neck tee hugging her just right. Not to mention the ever-present mascara highlighting her light brown eyes.

“Hey, Als,” she said, grinning. “Look at you.”

“Hi,” Ali replied, suddenly shy. She stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself.

“So you got your smile.”

“Guess I should leave, then.”

“Guess so.”

They grinned at each other for a minute until Ashlyn was the first to give in, stepping forward and shrugging. “Or, you know, you could give me a hug.”

“Yeah, I could do that.”

Not for the first time, Ashlyn marveled at how Ali could be soft and strong at the same time. Just a few inches shorter, she tucked in to Ashlyn nicely, and Ashlyn could have hugged her inside that crowded coffee shop forever.

Alas, Ali finally pulled back. “Want some coffee?” she chirped, sliding her hand down Ashlyn’s arm and tugging on her bicep.

She kept it there through the line until she dug through her enormous purse to her wallet, pouting when Ashlyn swooped in and paid for both drinks.

“You drove all this way to see me. You can at least let me buy you a coffee.”

“Oh, that’s cute; you think I came to see you.”

“As if you could find anyone in Miami better than me.” With a smirk, Ali tossed her hair, and Ashlyn was a goner.

~

“You’re not peeking, right?”

“I’m not peeking.”

Ashlyn stuck her head around the door. No, Ali wasn’t peeking, but she didn’t have her eyes closed, either. Instead she lay on her bed, laughing as she played with Ashlyn’s best friend.

“You don’t have your eyes closed!”

“Well, I’m trying, but,” Ali laughed, “Waffle keeps licking my face when I do.”

“Waffle, come here.” Ashlyn whistled, and the little French bulldog jumped off the bed and trotted to her side. “Okay, close your eyes. Now hold out your hands. Lower.”

Ashlyn eased into Ali’s bedroom, Waffle circling her feet curiously. She lowered the gift into Ali’s waiting hands and made sure she had it before letting go. “Okay, open your eyes.”

Ali gasped. In her arms lay a brand new longboard, the underside facing her to reveal an intricate design. She didn’t say anything at first, tracing the deck, the wheels, the carefully painted ‘AK11’ in the middle.

“Ashlyn, this is …” she mumbled. “God, this is incredible. It has … everything!”

Ali exaggerated, but not by much. Ashlyn had worked in a motif of things that were important to Ali into the design - Penn State, DC, Germany, her brother, coffee, wine - all laid over the black outline of a soccer ball pattern. She squirmed, suddenly embarrassed by the effort she’d put into Ali’s Christmas present. Ashlyn threw herself fully into whatever had her focus at the moment, and while some called it intensity and others devotion, sometimes people found it hard to handle.

Finally Ali looked up, all shining eyes and beaming smile. “This is amazing, Ash. Almost as amazing as you are.” Setting the board on her bed with reverence, Ali jumped up and threw her arms around Ashlyn, who melted into the embrace.

It would have been so simple to kiss her. So simple to tilt her head, so simple to capture Ali’s red lips, so simple to get a taste, so simple to fall.

And Ali, with her quick smile and easy happiness, would have let her. Would have leaned in to her, would have pulled Ashlyn close. Of that, Ashlyn felt sure.

But what she was also sure of was that Ali would come back later and repeat what she’d said at HAO’s wedding - she was in Germany, and Ashlyn was in DC. And that would be that, for the foreseeable future. For Ashlyn, it was worth it - any Ali was better than none - but it would hurt Ali, and that wasn’t something she was willing to do.

So she put on her best platonic smile, promised to teach Ali to skate after lunch, and joined her in teasing Ali’s brother Kyle when he pouted because he didn’t have a custom longboard, too.

~

“Hurry up, bb, or the New Year is going to happen without you!”

Kyle rolled his eyes in dramatic fashion as he returned to Ashlyn, waiting in the living room for Ali to finish getting ready for the New Year’s Eve party they were attending.

The week had been a dream for Ashlyn. Ali’s mom (who was a carbon copy of her daughter, aged thirty years) and stepdad were warm and welcoming. Kyle had kept Ashlyn in stitches, and they ganged up against Ali so often she jokingly complained she wouldn’t speak to either upon her imminent return to Germany. The trio had explored Miami to the fullest, eating, drinking, and shopping to their heart’s content.

“I’m going to go gray waiting for her,” Kyle complained. “And that is so not a look I can pull off right now.”

“What? You would totally rock the silver fox.”

“I mean of course I would rock anything.” He preened. “But I’d prefer to wait a few years for that particular one. Years I will probably spend waiting on my SISTER! ALEX!”

“I’m coming!” Ali called down the hall.

Kyle and Ashlyn shared a look of exasperation before cracking up.

“When I met Ali at Heather’s wedding, she took so long in the bathroom I was about to have to go full cologne instead of a shower. And then, the next morning after we’d been drinking all night, she rolls out of bed looking so fucking perfect I could’ve -”

“Jumped her bones? Pinned her to one of those gross hotel beds and had your naughty way with her? Swept her off her feet and drove off into the sunset in your Jeep?” Kyle laughed at Ashlyn’s gaping face. “Two things you need to know about me and my sister, especially if she plans on keeping you around, and I hope she does ‘cos I like you, kid. Numero uno - we tell each other everything. Everything, bb. Secondly - I know her better than anyone, and she says your name the same way she talked about the World Cup before she made the roster. The things she wants more than anything else.”

Ashlyn swallowed. She’d never really bothered to hide her attraction to Ali, but to learn that apparently Ali was the same made her visit all that much more bittersweet. How long was she going to spend waiting around for someone who had decided she was unavailable?

“I’m sorry, I’m ready, let’s go!”

And the answer was as long as she looked like that.

Ashlyn stood, for reasons unclear, and rubbed her palms against her pants. Ali put the ‘little’ in ‘little black dress’, wearing a simple number that flared and ended before her knees, with dangerously high stilettos. She flipped her loose curls over her shoulder and beamed at Ashlyn, a thousand watts of nose-crinkling joy.

“You look gooooood, bb!” Kyle drawled, turning to wink at Ashlyn. “So fucking perfect, some would say.”

~

“And you’ll me tell me if you’re not okay with this, right, Kyle?” Ali asked for the hundredth time as Ashlyn pulled up to the beach house to which her GPS had directed.

She rolled her eyes. Ali had nagged Kyle (a recovering addict, she’d confided in Ashlyn at some point over the last few months) for the entire half hour trip to Hollywood Beach. He’d insisted that the old friends they were meeting were not those particular old friends, that there wouldn’t be any drugs there and they’d leave if there was, that he was fine with people drinking around him.

“Christ, Alexandra, I told you a million times. I. Am. Fine. You think I want to mess up four years’ worth of sobriety? All I’m gonna do is find a cute boy and an empty room.” Ali opened her mouth, and Kyle lunged forward, slapping a hand over it. “Not a word about that either.”

Walking up to the house, music blaring, Ali slipped her arm through Ashlyn’s. “I know I’m being annoying, but I worry about him, you know? I almost lost him once …”

Ashlyn thought about her parents, her brother. How long they could go without speaking. The fights. The anger. The pain. Pulling her arm free to slide it around Ali’s shoulders, she held her close. “I get it, Al. We’ll watch out for him. But let’s go have some fun, too, yeah?”

Two hours later, they were doing just that. As parties went, it was nothing special - loud music, dancing, drinking, and lots of couples hooking up - but for someone who’d never lived in Miami, Ali had a lot of friends, and Ashlyn had never met a stranger. More than one cute girl caught her eye, at least until Ali wandered back into view.

Midnight was approaching when Kyle found Ashlyn outside the bathroom. “Hey kid! Where’s my sister?”

Leaning lazily, and maybe a little drunkenly, against the wall, she pointed at the door. “Taking forever.”

“Reapplying her mascara, I’m sure. Listen, tell her not to worry, but I’m going home with Tyler. And then tell her not to worry again, and remind her that everyone needs someone to kiss on New Year’s Eve. Ciao!”

“Who’s Tyler?” Ashlyn wondered at the fleeing Kyle.

“Tyler who?”

“Um, the guy Kyle said to tell you he’s going home with but not to worry, definitely not to worry. Who’s Tyler?”

Ali sighed, pulling Ashlyn with her. “His ex. Ugh, I don’t know why he’s wasting his time with him.”

“Because everybody needs someone to kiss on New Year’s Eve, Aliiiiii.” Sliding her arms around Ali’s waist, Ashlyn nuzzled her hair, making Ali giggle. “You wanna take a walk, Als?”

~

“It’s like everything I needed and not nearly enough, all at the same time,” Ashlyn explained, kicking the sand with her bare feet. “Every time I put on the gloves.”

“Maybe you could coach?” Ali suggested, twirling her shoes in her hand as they traipsed the beach, the house music fading to the gentle splash of the waves. “If playing rec soccer isn’t enough for you.”

“I don’t know who would want a washed-up college player who never got past the youth teams.”

Ali stopped, dropping her shoes and taking Ashlyn’s face in her hands. “You listen to me, Ashlyn Harris. You are not a washed up anything. You are an amazing person, a wonderful soul, a beautiful face, and an incredible player who got dealt a shitty hand. I looked you up on YouTube, okay, because I’m kind of crazy when it comes to you, apparently. You were good, really, really good, and if it wasn’t for something that is so totally no fault of your own, you’d be in Canada with me in a few months trying to go to the Olympics. Please don’t ever sell yourself short, because you are so much more than that.”

The waves were crashing and the world was spinning, and Ali was in the middle of it all. The truth - all of it - bubbled up from Ashlyn’s stomach, crawling through her throat, dancing on her tongue, pressing against her lips, but when she opened her mouth, she just leaned forward and pressed it to Ali’s.

Ali first gasped and then sighed against Ashlyn’s lips, leaning into the goalkeeper as her arms encircled Ali’s strong frame. Ashlyn kissed her knowing full well it might be the only time, although she knew from the first taste she’d always want to come back for more. It might have been five seconds or it might have been five hours, but when they finally parted, Ashlyn couldn’t resist leaning in once more to press a feather-soft kiss to Ali’s lips.

“Ash,” Ali breathed.

“I know the rules. I know nothing has changed. I know you’re still going back to Germany and I’m still in DC. But everyone needs someone to kiss on New Year’s Eve, and I didn’t want midnight to be our first kiss. I had to, Al.”

“New Year’s Eve,” Ali repeated.

“Yeah.”

“And then I go back to Germany.”

“Yeah.”

“And nothing has changed.”

Everything had changed. “Right.”

“Just tonight?”

“Just tonight.”

“Oh, thank God.”

Ali yanked her head down again, pulling her in for a searing kiss, and for once Ashlyn hoped midnight never came.

~

“Are you nervous?”

Ali thought about it. “Yeah, a little. I mean, I don’t want to say it’s only the Dominican Republic, but you know. I feel pretty confident about all the games, but we felt the same way in 2010, and we ended up in the playoff with Italy. I’ll feel better when we’re qualified and we can focus on London.”

“You’re going to be awesome. Waffle and I will be cheering you on for all ninety minutes!” Ashlyn held the little dog up to her laptop screen, enjoying Ali’s laugh when he tried to lick it.

“Well, I can’t let Waffle down, so I’ll try to score for him.”

“Oh, for Waffle, huh?” Ashlyn teased. “I guess I’m just some stranger you occasionally see at holidays.”

They hadn’t directly mentioned their New Year’s Eve beach make out session since it happened, but it was always there, lurking in the background as they tried to resume their routine of perfectly platonic Skype dates and never-ending text conversations.

“Yep, just some girl.” Ali winked.

They didn’t chat much longer so Ali could get a good night’s sleep. With Waffle at her feet, Ashlyn snuggled into her bed, excited to finally be able to watch Ali play the next day, even if she had to find some bar showing the game in order to do so.

Maybe she’d finally be able to look at Ali without remembering how soft her lips were, but she doubted it.


	4. In Which Ali Cries

“I’m here, Al,” HAO said quietly, squeezing her hand.

Ali took another shuddering breath. The entire team had pulled together, from the unsurprising - Mittsy’s tearful embrace, Cheney’s motherly hug, Cap’s quiet words of encouragement - to the more unexpected. Hope, who said her backline wouldn’t be the same without Ali in it. Abby, who told her she would be back better than ever before launching into the story of her own Olympic injury. And Carli, who simply mentioned that she liked having Ali by her side when they lined up for the anthem.

They were loving and good and strong, and it was exhausting. Ali felt like they wanted her to be strong, and she didn’t want to be strong anymore. She wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep until this nightmare was over.

Thankfully, she had HAO, who knew when to speak and when to hug, who didn’t feel like she constantly needed to take Ali’s mind off it, who knew better than to make any promises. And who didn’t harass her about Ashlyn, wanting to know every last detail (Syd and Alex) or come up with some crazy scheme to get them together (Pinoe), because they’d all seen the Facebook posts and pictures and took great pleasure in teasing Ali constantly.

“Can I get you something?”

_A new knee._

_A time machine._

_Ashlyn._

Her yearning surprised her. In no time at all Ashlyn had become her best friend, and after that kiss ( _God, that kiss_ ), she knew they could be so much more. Wanted them to be so much more. And right now, no matter how much she loved HAO, she wanted Ashlyn.

But even more than Ashlyn, she wanted an assurance no one could give her. Ali had no idea what was going to happen now. She had no idea if everything was going to work out, and it reminded her far too much of lying in that hospital bed at Penn State.

She shook her head. “Heather, I just …”

“I know.” HAO slid an arm under Ali’s shoulders, careful not to jostle her knee as she pulled her friend close, before reaching over with her free hand to hold Ali’s. “You’re one of my best friends. Love ya, Kriegs.”

She held her in the silence Ali craved as they stared up at the ceiling from a hotel bed.

~

Ali was beautiful when she slept.

Of course, Ali was beautiful all the time. No one knew that more than Ashlyn. But when she slept, she looked so serene, no matter the circumstances, that Ashlyn somehow felt more peaceful just watching her.

Peace was something she needed right now. Although she’d been through it three times herself, Ashlyn had never had to help someone through heartbreak of their own. Since Ali had returned from Canada, Ashlyn had spent nearly every free minute with her, trying to find that balance between being a distraction and being supportive. She would have racked up a credit card bill she couldn’t pay to go to Vancouver the night of her injury if Ali hadn’t explicitly told her not to.

“You want a coffee, Ash?” Kyle asked, standing up and stretching. Waiting for Ali to wake up from surgery wasn’t the most exciting of activities.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“I’ll go with you, sweetie.”

As Deb followed her son, she squeezed Ashlyn’s shoulder. Ashlyn gave her a quick smile in return. Neither of Ali’s parents seemed to have given Ashlyn’s presence a second thought, and while she was sure Kyle knew all about the complexities of their relationship, including the New Year’s Eve kiss, she wondered what Ken and Deb thought about it.

Brushing it aside, Ashlyn stretched out and scrolled through her phone, smiling at all the well wishes Ali had received on Twitter. The defender was well loved, and her popularity had exploded after she converted her penalty kick in the World Cup. Ashlyn felt an absurd sense of pride, which was ridiculous considering Ali was just her friend.

Best friend, crush, one-time kiss (well, more than one, but all in one night), and subject of dreams both day and night, but ultimately, just a friend.

A friend who was stirring.

“Hi, honey,” Ashlyn said softly when Ali’s beautiful brown eyes fluttered open. She grabbed Ali’s hand, stroking the back of it with her thumb while Ali blinked, opening and closing her mouth several times.

“Is my - is my knee still there?”

Smiling, Ashlyn brushed back a few strands of hair on Ali’s forehead. “Yeah, it’s still there. You’ll be as good as new soon.”

Ali sniffled. “Just wanna play football, Ash.”

“You will, honey.”

“Will you play with me?”

Ashlyn paused. She’d tried hard to avoid giving Ali any false promises, but right now, knowing Ali probably wouldn’t remember and unable to resist her wide-eyed, beseeching gaze, she gave in. “Of course, Alex. Anything for you.”

“M’best friend, Ash,” Ali mumbled.

“Right back at ya, Al.”

~

Ashlyn ran the dark, silky strands through her hands, trying to decide what to do with them. In the days since Ali’s surgery, the defender had been quiet and withdrawn, with Waffle (who always accompanied Ashlyn’s visits) the only thing that could bring a smile to her face. Ashlyn was worried, and she wasn’t the only one.

“She’s already convinced she’s going to miss the Olympics,” Ken had said to her the day before, quietly while Ali was in the bathroom, when Ashlyn brought up her concerns about Ali’s psychological recovery. “And you and I both know she’s probably right.”

“That’s not true,” Ashlyn protested weakly. Of course she knew how long it took to truly return from a knee injury, especially one as bad as Ali’s, but she wouldn’t - she couldn’t - admit it.

“She doesn’t need someone to lie to her, Ashlyn. She needs to move on.”

_Easier said than done_ , Ashlyn had thought to herself, and it remained true. She decided to go with a French braid to Ali’s hair and began, sitting on the arm of Ken Krieger’s couch while Ali reclined on it, flipping through TV channels and scratching Waffle’s belly.

“I loved ‘The Price is Right’ when I was a kid,” she remarked when Ali paused on it. “Always had to watch it when I was home sick.”

Ali shrugged, dropping the remote without a word, and although Ashlyn had to bite down, she didn’t say anything either. She refused to push the defender.

Ashlyn tried to draw Ali into the show, urging her to guess along with the contestants and cheering on the Plinko game, but she remained sullen, and so Ashlyn finally settled into an uncomfortable silence that weighed on her tattooed shoulders.

The contestants had reached the first Showcase Showdown by the time she finished braiding Ali’s hair. She rose, planning to take a picture to show Ali, but Waffle started whining when she did, so she headed for the back door, hearing Ali’s phone go off.

A snowstorm had blown in overnight, making her morning drive out to Manassas interesting and putting her Jeep’s four wheel drive to the test. The snow continued to blanket the DMV area, so Ken had set out soon after Ashlyn arrived to go check on Ali’s grandmother. Ashlyn huddled on Ken’s deck, waiting for Waffle to finish. The dog was none too pleased about the snow. Once he finished his business under a tree, he hurried back, and she scooped him up to brush off the snow.

“We will,” she heard Ali say when she walked back inside. “I know. Yeah, probably, I’ll tell her. Okay. Love you, too, bye.”

“Tell me what?”

“That was Dad. He said it’s getting worse outside so he’s going to stay at Grandma’s, and he thinks you should stay here tonight.”

Ashlyn settled herself on the floor in front of the couch, leaning her head back to rest on Ali’s thigh. “If you wanted to spend the night with me, all you had to do was ask,” she teased.

Ali offered her half a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, so Ashlyn dropped it, straightening up and reaching for the remote.

“I fucking hate snow,” she remarked as they watched the forecast. “I was made to live on the beach.”

“Then why are you in DC?” asked Ali with an edge to her voice that Ashlyn worked hard to ignore. “Why don’t you go back to Florida?”

“Oh, you know,” Ashlyn replied, her tone carefully mild. “I just wasn’t ready to move back.”

“Well, if you hate DC so much …”

Ashlyn gritted her teeth. “I don’t hate DC. After all, you’re here.”

“I live in Germany, or have you forgotten?” Ali paused. “At least for now. But I won’t stay. I’m not like you. If I don’t - if I can’t play -”

“Not like me? Not like me how, Alex?” Ashlyn snapped, finally losing her temper and spinning around. “Not a failure?”

“You aren’t a failure!”

“And neither are you!” Ashlyn yelled, staring down at Ali. “Dammit, Al, you’ve been injured before, you know what it’s like! You are so much better than someone who feels sorry for herself and who’s angry at the world. God, you almost - you almost died, and -”

She broke off, choked up, her voice catching as she suddenly thought of a world without Ali Krieger. A world where Ashlyn banged the hot bridesmaid and never thought of her again, a world where her phone didn’t ring for days, a world where she was still afraid of a soccer ball and spent New Year’s Eve in a bar full of strangers and the brightest thing in her life was a twenty-two pound French bulldog named after a breakfast dish.

“You almost died,” she repeated, clearing her throat. “But you came back from that, and you’ll come back from this.”

“You don’t know that,” Ali said in a voice so small Ashlyn had to strain to hear, sinking onto the edge of the coffee table. “You didn’t come back, you had to quit playing.”

“That’s not true.”

Ali stared at her, opening her mouth to speak, but Ashlyn cut her off, focusing on the pattern of the rug beneath her feet.

“No one told me I couldn’t play soccer anymore. Not the doctors, not the coaches, no one. I just couldn’t do it again, Al. I couldn’t claw my way back on a roster and fight for months to get my footwork and jumps and dives back to normal. Everyone just assumed, and I let them. I did all my rehab. My knee is fine. So I am a failure, I’m a quitter and a loser, and I won’t let you be the same.”

She wasn’t aware she was crying until something splashed onto her hand. Ali reached forward, tugging on Ashlyn’s arm until the blonde slid to her knees before cupping Ashlyn’s face in her hands, brushing away the tears.

“You’re not a failure,” Ali said softly, kissing one damp cheek. “You’re not a quitter,” she murmured, pressing her lips to the other. “And you’ll never be a loser,” she whispered, bringing Ashlyn’s mouth to meet her own.

Ashlyn’s tongue traced the salty outline of Ali’s lips before they opened. Ali made a whimpering noise deep in the back of her throat, grabbing handfuls of Ashlyn’s shirt to pull her even closer. Heart pounding, Ashlyn knelt above Ali, gasping into her mouth when the brunette ran her hand up Ashlyn’s torso, squeezing her breast. She couldn’t seem to bring Ashlyn close enough, hands clenching and tugging and roaming as their mouths explored each other. Ashlyn finally broke the kiss but only to let her lips trail from jaw to ear, neck to shoulder.

She soon became aware the Ali was calling her name. Panicked, fearing she might have gone too far despite Ali’s own advances, she flew back, stammering an apology.

“Ashlyn,” Ali said softly, pressing a finger against Ashlyn’s mouth to quiet her. “Help me to my room.”

Ashlyn reached for Ali’s hand, playing with her fingers, hesitant to confirm what she thought Ali was saying. “Alex, are yo-”

“I want you,” Ali mumbled, almost shamefacedly, before repeating it in a stronger voice. “I want you, here, in Germany, all the time. I want you and I’m tired of waiting. I want you, Ash, and right now I want you to help me to my room.”

In her haste Ashlyn all but carried her to the ground floor guest room that Ali was using during her recuperation. Easing Ali onto the bed, she shut the door behind them before hurrying to join her.

“No,” Ali said firmly, pushing a hand against Ashlyn’s chest. She reclined on her elbows, watching Ashlyn with an almost predatory gaze that made the blonde shiver. “Take off your clothes.”

Ashlyn swallowed. In all her bedroom fantasies of Ali - and there had been many - she had never pictured the brunette as the take charge type, and it turned her on far more than she would have guessed. She stripped quickly, not bothering to put on a show, and stood at the foot of the bed, feeling oddly vulnerable. However, the light in Ali’s widening eyes as she unabashedly drank Ashlyn in reassured her, and she smiled as Ali beckoned her closer.

“You are so wonderful,” Ali murmured, tracing Ashlyn’s tattooed ribs as they kissed. “So good, so sweet. And beautiful, so beautiful.”

Beautiful was not a description Ashlyn heard often. Hot, gorgeous, sexy were the most frequently received compliments. She wished she had a mirror so she could show Ali what beautiful really looked like.

A few minutes later, after she had finally freed Ali of her clothing and was struggling to find words, she had a new definition of beautiful.

Ali took her time, learning Ashlyn’s body with her fingers and mouth. With the house silent and everything outside muffled by the snow, it seemed like they were frozen in time, the only sounds the occasional shift of the mattress or a quiet moan. When Ali finally pulled Ashlyn on top of her, curling two fingers inside her, she felt like everything was spinning, spiraling, tightening, exploding all at once.

Ashlyn collapsed next to Ali, who turned to her with a smile so smug and satisfied that Ashlyn found herself aroused all over again.

“Why did we wait so long for that?” she gasped.

“Oh, some things are worth waiting for.” Ali paused for a long moment before turning to Ashlyn with an expectant look. “Not forever.”

“Definitely not.”

Mindful of Ali’s knee, Ashlyn rolled on top of her, holding herself up to gaze down at Ali, still not sure this was happening, that a naked Ali Krieger lay below her, wrapping her arms around Ashlyn, tugging until their bodies pressed together, eagerly arching her back …

Then Ashlyn slipped her hand between Ali’s parted thighs, and it definitely was.

~

Maybe it was the shaking of the mattress, or maybe it was the sounds muffled into a pillow. Either way, once Ashlyn remembered where she was, it took her a moment to figure out why she was awake in the dark room.

“Oh, honey,” she murmured when she realized Ali’s shoulders were shaking. “C’mere.”

Ali’s sobs grew louder as she rolled over, burying her face into Ashlyn’s shoulder. Ashlyn didn’t try to say anything, letting her cry it out while Ashlyn held her close, tightly, pressing kisses into her hair.

“I wanna go to the Olympics,” Ali cried. “It’s not fair, Ash, it’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not fair. And I wish I could promise that you will, but I can’t, honey. No one can. But I can promise that you’ll get a chance. If not this time, next time.”

“Next time?” Ali sniffled. “Christ, Ashlyn, by the next Olympics I’ll be almost 32!”

“And still the most beautiful and badass right back out there.”

Ali laughed shakily.

“There you go. You could solve world peace with that smile, you know.”

Ali laughed again, brushing at her cheeks. “Easy, charmer. You already have me naked.”

“Mmm.” Ashlyn dragged a finger in between Ali’s breasts. “How could I forget?”

She shifted to slide Ali onto her back, leaning down to kiss her, soft and slow, just this side of something more. Ali wound her hands around Ashlyn’s neck, playing with her long blonde tresses.

“Ash?” Ali mumbled in between kisses.

“Yeah?”

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” Ashlyn answered honestly. “You’ll be an Olympian someday, and I’ll be there to cheer you on.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

“You know why, Alex.” Ashlyn brushed strands of hair back from Ali’s forehead. “You know why.”

Ali took her hand, rubbing her thumb over the back of it. “Yes, I do.”

Then she pulled Ashlyn down until their lips met again.

~

The days in between Ali’s confession that she would be rehabbing in Germany and their last night together passed in the stop and go bursts that Ali had often demonstrated up and down the right flanks of soccer pitches worldwide. Ashlyn swore time moved backward when they were apart, but together, giggling and seeking illicit privacy like teenagers, the minutes slipped away like a leaking hourglass.

She brought Ali back to her apartment for the first time the night before she flew out. They’d elected to say their goodbyes in private, letting Ken take her to the airport alone the next day. Ashlyn cooked spaghetti, something she was reasonably confident she couldn’t screw up even if she felt Ali’s warm brown eyes smoldering into her back the entire time. Afterward, she suggested a movie, but one beckon of Ali’s finger saw them disappear down the hallway, shutting her bedroom door in the face of a very affronted Waffle.

“Well, at least my trainers won’t be able to complain about my cardio when I get back,” Ali gasped, letting her head drop to the pillow.

Ashlyn laughed softly, resting her chin on top of the Penn State tattoo she’d been delighted to discover, much more for the pelvic placement than the logo itself. She was content to lay there, Ali’s hand in her hair as they both caught their breaths, until Ken arrived.

However, it seemed Ali had other ideas. “Ash, would you mind getting me my phone? And maybe some water? Please?”

Ashlyn groaned even as she rolled over but didn’t move fast enough to suit Ali, who poked Ashlyn’s bare ass with her foot as way of encouragement. She took her time in the kitchen, grabbing bottles of water for both of them after giving some attention to her dog, who let her know how he felt about his neglect. When she returned, she wasn’t surprised to find that Ali had all but drifted off to sleep, so she pulled a blanket over both of them as she gently nudged the sleepy brunette.

Ali took her phone and water without a word, and Ashlyn threw an arm around her waist, prepared for a nap of her own.

“Ash? I want to, um, show you something.”

A lewd retort died on Ashlyn’s lips when she absorbed Ali’s uncertain tone, and she pushed herself half up to find Ali biting her lip. “What, honey?”

“So, you know how you said you’d watch me at the Olympics someday? Well, I was thinking - what if you were there, too?”

“That’s my plan. You think I’m going to watch my girl win a gold medal on the TV? I’m talking front row seats.”

“No, I meant, like, on the field.”

Ashlyn sat up slowly, furrowing her brow. “I don’t understand …”

“Here. I saw this a few days ago.”

Ali held her phone out, and Ashlyn took it, confused. It was open to the webpage of DC United Women, the local MLS team’s women’s pro-am side. She scrolled down to find that they were holding open tryouts in six weeks. After reading through it twice, she gave the phone back to Ali, trying to form her thoughts into something coherent.

“I just thought …” Ali broke off, biting her lip again, before sitting up, taking both of Ashlyn’s hands in her own and waiting until she made eye contact again. “You said your knee is fine, and you said you wanted more. This is the next step, Ash.” Her voice turned earnest. “We could do this together, you know? Both of us, trying to play soccer again. And someday, we can play on the same team, and I can’t think of anything better.”

“I - I don’t know what to say, Als.”

“Say you’ll do it. Say you’ll go kick ass on the pitch. I know you can. I’ll be your best cheerleader, and,” she lowered her voice, “when my knee is better, I’ll put on my old uniform for you.”

“Who could turn that down?” Ashlyn teased, although her mind was racing.

Could she do this? Could she set herself up to lose it all again? Getting over soccer had been the hardest thing she’d ever done, and she didn’t think - no, she knew she couldn’t do it another time. Then she looked up, and no person in the world could say no to that face.

Grinning stupidly, Ashlyn held out her pinkie. “Okay, Als, you and me.”

Ali broke into her thousand-watt smile, and she curled her pinkie around Ashlyn’s, shaking on it, before leaning in to catch a kiss, lingering when Ashlyn took her face in her hands.

They’d barely separated when Ashlyn whispered, “What if I can’t do it?”

Ali rested her forehead against Ashlyn’s, running her thumb along Ashlyn’s jaw. “What if you can?”


End file.
